


Just when I'd stopped opening doors

by Handfulofdust



Series: In the heart and in the head [1]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Jealousy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-17 13:19:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14189814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Handfulofdust/pseuds/Handfulofdust
Summary: Olivia thinks Rafael is dating another cop. She does not react well.





	1. One who keeps tearing around

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive the pretentious Sondheim references in the chapter titles please. This is a whole mess really but I basically started with “I want Liv to be jealous” and it ballooned into a bunch of feelings. M rating is eventual and will probably be closer to a T because I can't really write smut.

She wasn’t even supposed to go to this gala, Olivia reminded herself as she huddled in the corner and pretended to have important things to do on her phone. _He’d invited her to this gala._

He’d practically begged her to come even though he knew she would hate every minute of it.

His new job was in the Mayor’s office, spearheading some task force for under-served communities and drug crime rehabilitation. She never quite followed what Rafael’s work actually entailed, but his title was something like Advisor.

It’s Director of Community Outreach and Senior Advisor to the Mayor. She may have his business card in her desk drawer somewhere. For strictly professional reasons, mind you. Victims may still need his help.

She remembers when he handed it to her, when he waltzed back into her life. Six months of texts and Skypes with Noah and no phone calls or promises for dinners or asks to drinks. Six months he'd been off somewhere working on political problems she had no desire to understand. It had been unbearable really, but she'd managed to be happy for him. He'd handed her that card telling her he’d figured it out.

Now he could help people and love the job too. Now he could use what he’d learned, what she’s made him see. She remembers him being so happy she could barely stand it. She couldn’t bring herself to ask him what favor he called in or who he was kidding if he thinks working for the mayor’s office is less stressful than being an ADA.

But damn, did it work for him. She’s always known him to be somewhat of a political animal, but this guy? This guy could run for stuff and people would actually vote for him because they liked him.

She knows he doesn’t actually want to run for anything. He’s enjoying what he can accomplish. He knows anything more will be too much pressure and too much like the old life he cracked under.

She also knows she’s a teeny bit biased about what does and does not work for him and that she’s prone to letting him talk her into things lately because he’s so damn happy.

Which is why she even considered going to this $5000 a plate fundraiser for the Women’s League.

(He says she gets in on her reputation but she’s also not convinced he didn’t pay for her plate. She’s not sure where he gets all this money from on a government salary.)  

She’d never dreamed to be caught dead at these things, but her friend wants her there and she wants to talk to her friend and maybe she’s hoping she’ll render him speechless for once.

Maybe that would explain why she’s wearing this ridiculous green thing that looks way more expensive than it actually is. Or maybe it would explain why she’s put on makeup and finished her case logs and asked Lucy to stay over. It’s got something to do with the charity, sure, a lot to do with the charity, but she’s also worried she’s half in love with her asshat of a best friend.

Rafael Barba is an asshat for many reasons - but today it’s mostly because she’s been in the room for at least five minutes and he hasn’t even noticed. He’s too focused on wining and dining the bigwigs. He’s too focused on the woman he’s introducing to all of them.

Olivia swallows the lump in her throat. Tries to remember how to breathe.

He’s too focused on his _date_ to remember he even invited her here.

She’s tiny, gorgeous, blonde. She’s clutching his arm, they’re both laughing hysterically. She finds herself growing warm. Finds herself squeezing the glass she’s holding tight enough to shatter it. She downs it and sets it back on the roving waiter’s tray. She’s about to grab another when the woman turns just enough that Olivia recognizes her.

Fiona Masters - recently promoted to Sergeant at the 2-4’s Homicide Unit. She’s always been a ray of sunshine in a bleak world that one. She's the Betty to Olivia’s Veronica, the Marilyn to her Jackie, and it never fails to piss her off when people try to make it a competition. Fiona’s only ever been lovely and kind and she’s mostly only admired her, really.

She’d never even thought of comparing herself to Fiona before. It was pointless and dumb and played too much into outdated stereotypes about women being catty.

Except, well, here it felt like a competition where she didn’t even get picked to play. Here it felt like she was striking out before she even found a bat.

She’d always convinced herself Rafael had never made a move because he thought it would be unprofessional. After his actions with her and Tucker he would never dream of being inappropriate. She’d decided he had some notion about a conflict of interest now, too, since they were both technically city employees.

She thought maybe he just didn’t date cops. Thought maybe he just didn’t date.

But no, he just didn’t want to date her.

The lump settles somewhere in her stomach. Lodges near her rib cage, festers somewhere near heartbreak. That can’t be possible.

Maybe she’s fully in love with her asshat of a best friend.

Maybe she’s jealous.

She has no right to be jealous. Who allowed that? She’s a grown ass lady with a kid who would tell her that’s a bad word. It’s not Rafael’s problem that he’s not in love with her. It doesn’t stop her from feeling like the walls are closing in.

She can’t do this to herself and she doesn’t have to. She made an appearance and whether he saw it or not it was an appearance. It was enough.

She’s halfway down the hall when her phone buzzes in her purse. It’s from him.

[ _Catch a case?_ ]

She considers lying, making up some story about paperwork or Noah or something but she’s better than that and he’ll see right through it.

[ _No, I’m just not sure I can go through with getting all dressed up for this._ ]

His response is immediate.

[ _So that wasn’t you in the green number dashing out of the ballroom?_ ]

She’s glaring at the screen when the three dots appear. Flashing at her. Taunting her to deny it before he can say something equally cutting. She’s managed to type out something like “What’s it to you?” when she’s interrupted.

“Lieutenant Benson?”

She looks up. Of course Peter Stone would be here. Of course in some weird attempt to be charming he is at the Women’s League Gala Event. She pastes on a smile. It’s not his fault he’s got the worst timing in the world.

“Stone,” she nods her head, “I didn’t realize this was your scene?”

“It’s really not, actually, but it’s the type of thing that’s good to make an appearance at.” he laughs, “You waiting for someone?”  

Just the emotionally unavailable best friend who doesn’t care enough to warn her she’d be a third wheel.

Her phone vibrates. She looks down.

[ _You’re not going to turn into a pumpkin at midnight, Gus Gus and Jaq would not allow that. Come back in here.]_

She smiles, she can’t tell if he’s being wrong on purpose, but she knows he watched Cinderella with Noah last week. She types out a response.

[ _The pumpkin is the carriage and the mice make the dress. Just how tired were you watching that movie?_ ]

She vaguely registers Stone in her periphery. She shouldn’t be texting but he should understand. She doesn’t honestly care if he understands.

[ _Maybe I added a plot twist. Maybe Noah wanted to watch Frozen halfway through and it’s possible that I let him._ ]

She hates him when he’s this charming and she hates him when he’s this lovely and she hates him because he’s not hers to hate.

[ _Maybe you were the one who wanted to watch Frozen instead_ ]

“Lieutenant?” Peter starts, seeming to ask what’s going on. Perhaps he thinks there’s a case.

“Sorry, I - just -” she cuts herself off, puts her phone away because she realizes she’s being rude even if she doesn’t actually care about his opinion, “I’m not waiting for anyone, it’s just awkward being at these things while worrying about your kid.”

She’s not entirely lying, just not sharing the full truth. He doesn’t seem to register the awkwardness of her demeanor. Maybe he doesn’t care about her opinions either.

“Well I’m sure you’ll manage. Would you like to go in?”

He offers an arm. She briefly wonders what that would look like. What the gossip mongers would say about it - SVU Lieutenant and ADA, arm in arm. But she realizes it doesn’t matter because the thought of them dating is honestly hilarious and she genuinely doesn’t have the energy to give a shit what any of it looks like.

Somehow they’re seated next to Rafael and Fiona, because the organizers of this thing hate her. Or, more likely, because Rafael bought all the tickets and of course Stone would sit next to his Lieutenant. This isn’t real. It’s all politics.

 She ignores the sideways head tilt he gives at Peter. She’s not going to mistake it for jealousy. Rafael Barba is dating Fiona Masters and she is fine with it. Completely fine. It doesn’t even sound defensive in her head.

 “It’s nice to see you, Mr. Barba,” Stone sets in. He really is relentless. “I’ve been meaning to drop a line since you got back to New York, but the nice folks with Manhattan’s Finest are keeping me otherwise occupied.”

 Does he hear himself when he speaks like this? Does he lift his dialogue from departmental training videos?

 She tells herself to be nice. He’s nice. He really hasn’t done anything that should make her hate him so much. Except for prosecuting her best friend for murder, but that’s not exactly his fault. Besides, the way the best friend is currently smiling and taking it in stride tells her she should drop the fuss and bluster. He still hasn’t acknowledged her existence so what does it matter anyway?

 Wow she is being dramatic. She flags down a waiter and asks for a vodka soda.

 She barely says three words all evening. She thinks she’s had more alcohol than opportunities to speak. Between Stone being as endearing as a baseball commercial, Barba’s constant schmoozing and Fiona’s relentless flirting with both of them where would she even find a way in?

She didn’t come here to be the fourth wheel. She didn’t come here to be the third wheel. She came her to spend time with her friend who is currently making eyes at his girlfriend.

His beautiful, lovely, stupid girlfriend.

 Fiona really is nice and she seems to make him happy. It shouldn’t hurt this much to see him so happy.

 She’s being handed a rum and coke when he finally looks at her. It’s judgmental and disapproving and she doesn’t deserve this from him. Not today.

 He leans over the table, lowers his face close to hers.

 “Maybe slow it down a little? This isn’t exactly the place to get sloshed,” he gestures toward the Mayor, sitting with his wife a few tables over.

 She feels half a laugh at the back of her throat.

 “I wasn’t aware I asked for your advice but don’t worry. I won’t make you look bad in front of your boss,” she hisses back at him under her breath.

His eyes widen for a split second. The carefully constructed party mask folds under his features and for a moment he’s back to himself.

 “I don’t know what crawled up your ass and died, but you’re being a buzzkill.”

 She’d love it if it weren’t directed at her. The patented Barba zinger was deadly and fierce. What the hell was he on about anyway? He was the one not talking to her.

 She’s about to say as much when Fiona interjects. No one asked Fiona.

 “I say knock ‘em back, “ she grins, “You only live once right?”

 “Gee, thanks for the permission Fi,” falls out of her mouth before she can think about it, even Peter widens his eyes at her. “That’s - I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.”

 To her credit Masters looks sympathetic. As if she’s been there before. Olivia doubts it. She’s so poised and delightful and perfect always. She’s even compassionate right after being insulted.

 She hates her. She shouldn’t. It’s not fair. The only person she really hates is Rafael.

 “Anyway,” she sighs, “I think that’s my cue to leave. If I get home soon I might catch my son before bedtime.”

 As she gets up both Stone and Barba do, too. She resists the urge to roll her eyes. Did we suddenly enter a costume drama where we stand when a lady enters and exits? She sees Fiona smirking and really wishes she could hate her, but she’s probably actually the best.

 “Olivia - “ Rafael follows after her.

“Don’t worry, I’m not making a scene,” she whispers, “I’m going to pretend like I’m going to the bar and then sneak out.”

 “You don’t have to leave- I wasn’t - I didn’t mean that.”

 “But you did mean that I’m no fun tonight and I can’t disagree. So why bother really?” she hugs him. She tries to ignore that he feels like a lumpy sack of potatoes instead of the soft, enveloping pillow his hugs usually are.

 “Sorry for being such a buzzkill.”

She can’t ignore the way his face slumps or the way he recoils as she says it. She can pretend it doesn’t mean anything though.

 “Liv -” she looks up, “if you do manage to get home before bedtime tell Noah that Uncle Rafa says hi?”

 She nods her head yes and walks to the bar. She only looks back at him once. Maybe twice. It shouldn’t give her satisfaction that now he looks like a sack of potatoes that’s been boiled. It doesn’t.

 She only hates him this much because she loves him this much.

 She doesn’t see the response he had sent earlier until she gets home. It makes her feel all the worse. Makes her teeth set on edge.

 [ _Maybe I just want to spend time with mi amigo_ ]

 The only person she really hates is herself.

 


	2. One who can't move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fallout and confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the lovely feedback on the first chapter. Getting back into the swing of writing so it's so nice to have such reactions :) This is a little short and I basically stole a scene from Younger here and made it fit my own devices so hopefully it works.

He doesn’t come by for three days. She’d gotten used to the coffee. She tells herself that’s why she’s on edge and irritable. She shouldn’t have all that caffeine anyway. 

He comes by the precinct on Thursday on actual outreach business. He doesn’t visit her office.

She only knows he was there because she happened to pass him in the hall on the way to the coffee machine. 

She thinks about texting him on Friday.  She doesn’t text him until Monday morning. 

[ _ Carisi is considering growing his hair out. Please send help _ ]

He doesn’t respond until three hours later. It hurts. 

[ _ Let Carisi do what he wants. _ ]

She's losing him and she can't figure out exactly where or when she went wrong. She knew it would be difficult to be the same kind of friends if he ever did find someone. She wasn't actually delusional enough to think he'd never date anyone. 

She knew if he was going to fall for anyone he would fall hard. That’s why she’s freaking out so much about what may only be one date. Rafael Barba doesn’t do anything halfway. She’s really quite happy for him. He deserves it. 

She just didn't think he'd cut her out with no warning. 

She's the one who changed him, the one who made him into a human being and not some old movie star. She's the one who sat through that trial and that heartache and stood by as he found himself again. She's the one he should love. 

Some other woman doesn't get to have what she worked so hard and waited so long for. Some other girl shouldn't get to have what she wants. 

Nobody will ever understand her the way he does. She's never felt comfortable acknowledging that until now. It still makes her uncomfortable, but now there’s no denying it.

She’s waited too long to do anything about and she’s trying to accept it. She just wishes he would have told her before she had to find out this way. 

She tries to invite him to lunch and drinks and dinners. He begs off each time. She sends him jokes and tries to get him to make fun of Carisi like usual. The most she gets out of him is:

[ _Funny._ ]

He responds to Carisi’s dumb group chats like normal. He jokes with Fin and Amanda when he drops by for work reasons. He does seem cold with Stone but she feels like that’s unavoidable. 

She doesn’t like getting her own coffee. It’s not that she’s lazy. It’s that she likes chatting with him on the way to get it. She likes talking to him when he drops it off. Getting her own coffee reminds her of the six months he was at some think tank working on immigration reform proposals. 

She pretended like she was happy for him then, too. She managed, eventually, to be happy for him even though he was breaking her heart. She can cope as long as he talks to her. Even if it's through texts he insists on writing in full and complete sentences. As long as it's through texts he insists on writing in full and complete sentences. 

This is worse than when she was dating Tucker. At least then she knew what she did.

It’s when he can’t come to brunch that she’s truly pissed off. 

She has to do something about it. Maybe they don’t have to be friends, but she needs him in Noah’s life. She thinks she deserves that much. 

She’s decided she’s going to accost him at Forlini’s. He’s there half the time anyway.

When she gets there Peter Stone calls her over to a booth. She doesn’t want to be angry with him but she’d rather not deal with work right now. He needs to go over witness statements. She’s confirming the victim has agreed to testify when Stone stops her to call over whoever has just entered the place.

It’s Rafa. 

He and Stone make stilted conversation about being the SVU ADA. She doesn’t think Stone realizes it’s awkward. 

Rafael barely even looks at her. When she does manage to meet his eyes he seems pissed. Or like someone cut up his favorite suspenders. Maybe it’s a mix. She can’t imagine why he would think any of this is her fault though he obviously does. 

Before she can make her move and confront him about any of this he makes up some excuse about having to leave. She tries not to notice he didn’t order anything. She tries not to feel hurt by the fact that he won’t even tell her why. 

“You must have done something really bad, Lieutenant Benson,” Stone smirks as he sips on his beer. 

She’s not going to deny it. 

“Yeah - sorry about that. It was pretty awkward.” 

She wouldn’t have told him what it was even if she knew. He’s smart enough to know that much. 

“He really means a lot to you, doesn't he?”

“We've been through a lot.”

As usual she’s not lying, per se. She’s just not willing to give the full story. 

“No thanks to me,” he offers. 

So he does know why she hates him. She’s prepared for him to defend himself - say it was his job and give some other moralizing speech about the law being the law. She’s mustering the energy to resist the eye roll. Instead, he asks her a question. 

“Have you told him?” he’s contemplative, as if he’s actually curious about whatever it is he’s trying to imply. 

“I don't understand.”

He smiles, considers her for a moment.

“Have you told him that you're in love with him?”

How the hell would he know any of that and why the hell would it matter to him.

“I'm not -”  she starts, turning her head in defense.

“Please,” he interrupts. It almost sounds sarcastic. She didn’t think he had it in him. “I would say I'm more intuitive than you'd think but it's mostly that I have eyes.”

She considers denying it but knows it really doesn’t matter. She can’t be bothered to care about his opinions. 

“It's that obvious?” she manages. 

“Yes,” he states, “to everyone but him. I know I'm in no position to give you advice but sometimes we have to tell people while we have the chance.”

She would, she really would, except he's dating Fiona and he won't talk to her and it's just too late.

If Stone knows maybe Fiona knows. If Fiona knows maybe that’s the problem. Maybe she told him not to hang out with her since she's a bitch who can't even be polite at a dumb fancy party.

She's still pissed he won't just tell her this

It’s a week later when she happens to catch him milling about with Narcotics. So she asks him, politely in front of everyone, for advice on a case. She knows he can’t afford the appearance of being rude. She knows he knows what she’s doing. 

He follows her into her office. Shuts the door behind him. She’s trying to motion for him to sit down in his chair opposite her desk. She's trying to make it like old times. He stands behind it and doesn’t move to sit down at all. 

He’s looking at her name plate, the couch, at the rest of the precinct outside the window - anything but her. 

“What did you actually need then?” he sighs, taps his fingers on the back of the chair as if it’s annoying to even be here. 

“I want to know why you aren’t talking to me,” she lays bare. He doesn’t have time to be here so she’s not sugar coating it. 

Something like anger flits over his features but he quickly covers it, shakes his head, makes a noncommittal gesture with his hand. He's moving toward the door now.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Too late.”

His eyes meet hers.

“I’ve -- been busy.”

She’s not letting him get away with that. He’s going to just have to man up and tell her that he’s dating Fiona.

"No, you’re not coming by and you’re not reading my texts and you didn’t even want to do brunch on Sunday.”

Noah loves brunch. Half because Uncle Rafa comes and half because Uncle Rafa slips him extra whipped cream for his waffles when they think she isn't looking.  She's not going to use Noah against him. That isn't fair. It's implied anyway.

He realizes she's not going to let this go. He sighs, leans against the wall, closes his eyes and lets it out.

“You were rude.”

She feels like that's not the full story.

“Excuse me?” she raises an eyebrow. He was rude first. 

“At the gala. I had talked you up to everyone and you barely said a word and then practically bit Fiona’s head off. Even Peter seemed surprised.”

He looks like he wants to shrink into the corner, like he’d rather be anywhere else with anyone else. What the hell does Peter matter?

“Peter? You two are on a first name basis?”

“That’s what you’re focusing on?”

“I am frankly just amazed that I am the rude one when you barely said a word to me all night except to be condescending.”

That gets him out of the corner, fully on his feet. Good. She needed this confrontation. Maybe she finally prodded the right place.

“I didn't want you to embarrass yourself.”

His jaw is set. Tension is rolling off his shoulders.

She laughs, he’s full of shit.

She doesn’t actually know what she’s doing any more. He’s told her he’s mad she was rude to Fiona. She should be offering to apologize to her and apologizing to him on her behalf. But she is just so damn angry he didn’t tell her. That he still refuses to tell her he's dating Fiona.

“You didn’t want me to embarrass you,” she counters, prods again, “Besides -  you know! You know I hate those things and you still made me feel guilty for not wanting to be there.”

“Right - so why did you even agree to go?”

“To get you to shut up about it!”

Wrong move. She forgets, sometimes, that not only is he an Ivy League educated lawyer with decades of experience skewering people for a living. He will also will set you on fire to win an argument. 

“I’m sorry my making a donation in your name is so disgusting and I’m sorry I wanted my friend to have a chance to show off.”

So he had lied. He had spent $5K on a dumb ticket to a thing she didn’t want to go to so he could parade his gem of a girlfriend in front of her. What an ass.

She catches his eyes, sees his lip curl upward. He’s mad. Fuck him. 

“I’m sorry you didn’t feel it necessary to tell me about your new girlfriend before I got there!”

He does an honest to God double take. She would have laughed in any other situation. She’s too pissed off to have any emotion other than anger.

“My what?” he splutters. 

“I’m sorry I was mean to your stupid, perfect, beautiful girlfriend. I’m sure you just forgot to tell me she existed.”

He glares at her. Opens his mouth once then shuts it quickly. Laughs bitterly and shakes his head. 

“Like you told me whatever the hell is going on between you and Stone?”

What’s going on with her and Stone is that he’s the most boring person on the planet. If she didn’t know differently she’d say he’d changed his last name after his parents found out he was actually made of rocks when he was a child. 

If she didn’t know any differently she’d say Rafael Barba was jealous. Of what exactly she's not sure. He's the one who quit the DAs office. She's been understanding and happy for him. Her heart has been slowly dying but she's glad because he seems content now.

He doesn't get to haul off and leave her here with a fucking statue of a person  and then be pissy that they're building a working relationship. He doesn't get to have everything.

Not when she gets nothing. Not when she doesn't at least get to have brunch.

“I thought he was Peter?” she taunts. She’s past caring about what sets him off. 

It works. Too well. The angry, passionate, honestly really fucking hot lawyer falls under the mask of the politician.

He’s cold. Fiery Rafael she can deal with - he's mostly bluster and passion. Icy Barba is actually the most terrifying. It's when he's past anger, past feelings.

She braces herself for the blow - it's a knockout.

“You just always have to date the worst possible people for yourself and your career don't you? It’s amazing really. I feel like you must enjoy the drama.”

He has no right to be making judgments about whoever she dates, he’s not her boyfriend or her boss. They don’t even work together anymore. He’s barely being her friend anymore. He’s somebody else’s boyfriend and it’s not fair. It’s not fair that she’s losing her best friend because she can’t figure out the right way to apologize to his girlfriend.

It’s not fair somebody else gets to be his girlfriend. 

“Well if you're so intent on ruining yours to date some cop I don't understand why the Hell it isn’t me.”

He gapes at her. Something flashes behind his eyes and he’s back. The tender, sweet, mushy center of Rafael Barba is here and she’s so in love with him she honestly can’t stand it. She loves every piece of him, really, but she can't bear his pity. 

He tries to come over to her side of the desk but she waves him off.

“Nevermind. I'm sorry. I’m stressed and upset and it really doesn't matter who you date as long as you’re happy.” 

She feels like the words are strangling her. She’s going to be swallowed by them. 

She understands now why she was getting so angry. If she gets this angry she doesn’t have to think about how sad it makes her to lose her best friend. 

“Olivia -” he starts, it’s heartfelt and melodious and she wants to cry.

She’s not going to. She refuses to let this make her cry. They’ve survived so much. This can’t be what breaks them. 

His eyes are warm and bright and she can’t understand why they would be. He’s opening his mouth to say something more when the door opens. It’s Rollins. Olivia can tell by her expression that she’s feeling the tension of the conversation even if she has no idea what happened.

“I'm sorry to interrupt ya’ll,” Amanda’s eyes dart between them, “but I need a warrant and I can't get in touch with Stone.”

“Did you try his cell?” 

She knows she did but it’s something to say.

“Yes,” Rollins sighs. “He's probably at the Mets game or something.”

“Call Barnett,” Rafael interrupts, referring to the Executive ADA for Manhattan, “Tell her it's an emergency and that I vouched for you. She'll take care of you.”

Olivia thinks that’s taking it a step too far - crawling up to his boss because he doesn’t answer the phone a few times. It happens. Amanda seems to agree because she shakes her head. 

“I don't want Stone to take that out on me.”

Rafael blanches, and in a split second he is back to his old self. It’s remarkable, really, if only she was actually sure what was causing it. 

“He’s the one not answering his phone,” he sasses, an annoyed smile that doesn’t go to his eyes graces his features, “So he should be able to get over it.” 

Amanda doesn’t know what this mood is about, either, but she’s got a case to follow up on. She thanks him, nods her head at Liv, and leaves the room. 

Olivia is putting on her coat when he interrupts. 

“Where are you going?” 

“I’m going to help Amanda follow up on this case. Sounds like she may have to grease a few elbows to get paperwork in order.”

She’s using the case as an excuse to leave the room. Amanda can handle herself and she’ll ask when she needs help. 

He doesn’t buy it either.

“I didn’t think we were finished with this conversation.” 

She doesn’t want to talk about any of this. She slipped and revealed feelings she shouldn’t have, desires she’d not quite figured out how to shove away. 

She can’t talk to him about this because when he asks she’ll have to be honest and she can’t ruin his happiness. She hasn’t come up with an excuse to explain away her feelings yet. Her feelings aren’t fair to him and they aren’t fair to Fiona. It’s not fair that he loves Fiona and not her but that’s no one’s fault but hers.

Love is stupid. 

“It's fine,” she musters, “Just pretend it didn't happen. I'm really, honestly happy for you.” 

The smile she gives him is genuine, but they both know she’s sad. His eyes search her face and she almost falters under it. Almost admits right there that she meant every word of what she said. 

“But it did happen,” he counters. He never would let her get away with anything. 

She bucks up, puts her armor back on, and refuses to take the opening. 

“I really have to go.”

“No, you don't,” he shakes his head, stares so intently she feels like he’s looking through her, “but I'm sure you want to. Just know that we are not done talking. Good luck with the case.”

With that, he leaves. She thinks she may have just ruined everything, but she also knows she’s going to have to face him and his stupid face eventually. She’s so overwhelmed by everything she almost forgets to lock her office door. 

He’s really going to end up killing her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry. I'll fix it.


	3. Finally knowing the one that I wanted was yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olivia cleans up, Rafael can’t make spaghetti, Noah and Lucy see a musical, Fiona grins, Peter is referred to and oh, yeah, feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost wrote a whole side POV with Fiona and Rafael but decided to make myself get on with it. Fair warning that I cannot write smut for the life of me so just know that I tried.

 

She avoids him for a solid few days. She avoids his calls, manages to be in meetings and interrogations when he drops by, only responds to certain texts and usually with memes. Coffee still winds up on her desk, though. She kind of hates him for it. 

She still loves him for it. 

She knows if nothing else he will probably show up at brunch since it's kind of a standing thing. She tells herself he won't bring up their conversation since Noah will be there. She tells herself a lot of things she doesn't actually believe - that he's going to let it go being chief among them.

She's hoping he'll give up. She should know better.

Fiona drops by the precinct to follow up on a grisly rape and murder case. Beautiful, warm, enchanting Fiona. She’s really quite something. No wonder he loves her.

Wow she is making leaps. All she knows is that they went to a gala together. He never confirmed they were dating or together. He never said they were in love.

He never denied it either.

“Olivia!” Fiona smiles as she makes her way into her office. It's genuine. She doesn't understand. She’s sure Rafael must have told her.

She’s sure they both think she’s jealous of their relationship because she wants love for herself. At least, that’s what she’s decided she’s going to tell him when he figures out a way to corner her. She's hoping he'll actually buy that.

Maybe he sent Fiona to do his bidding. Maybe she’s here to tell her they can’t be friends anymore because it’s obvious to everyone. Obvious to everyone but him, she remembers Stone saying.

So, she resolves, if she’s going to be flayed alive, the least she can do is apologize.

“I'm sorry about that fundraiser Fiona, I was -”

Fiona throws out a hand by way of interrupting. She plops down on the seat Rafa usually sits in. Of course she would.

“It's fine. It's really wasn't my place to jump in but Rafael was just being such a dick.”

She hates the way her voice sounds around his name, but she doesn’t own his name. That’s ridiculous. She’s also surprised. Why is Masters defending her?

“Well, you know he’s usually a dick and I shouldn't have snapped at you for it.”

Fiona waves both hands this time - as if to tell her to simmer down.

“Oh honestly - don't worry about it. He sat there for like five minutes pretending not to notice you and then got pissed because you brought in Peter. He's really a child.”

She's - she - he knew she was there for that long and hadn't just been annoyed because she tried to leave? He's pissed about Peter Stone?

Fiona catches her shocked expression and smiles.

“I mean if he thinks you should disclose he should use his words and tell you instead of sniping about vodka sodas”

What the hell is she meant to disclose? To whom?

“Disclose what?”

Fiona is full on grinning now. She sort of looks like The Grinch when he gets his wonderful, awful idea. She really should watch more than kids movies.

“Your relationship - with Peter.”

She's pretty sure it takes a solid thirty seconds for her to register what's going on because she's so surprised.

Rafa’s comment about her dating life suddenly makes sense. He wasn’t being judgmental arbitrarily. He wasn't making a generalized insult about her rocky love life. He thinks she’s making another bad choice in a series of bad choices.

He thinks she’s dating Peter Stone.

It’s hilarious. Doesn’t she make fun of him for barely even being able to impersonate a person all the time? It overtakes her thoughts and she bursts out laughing.

Fiona just keeps on smiling.

“Yeah, that's what I thought. I told Rafael he needed to fix this because there was no way that was true. He's being a petulant baby as usual. I hate him when he's mopey.”

Fiona wants them to be friends? Fiona doesn’t mind her feelings?

Rafa must have told her what she said. There’s no way Rafa understands what her feelings actually are.  Either way Fiona’s great. Either way she feels bad that she hated her for a bit there. 

How is it possible to be this happy for your friend when your heart is half broken? 

“He's - been trying - I think. I can kind of be stubborn too,” Olivia shrugs.

“Well write him back! Talk to him! You two are something else really.”

Well that confirms it. There’s no way Rafael told her. Fiona must think he was mad because she was ruining her career. Fiona wanted to fix their friendship. She’s a sweetheart but she’s got no idea.

She’s still going to avoid this conversation.

A couple of days later Lucy texts her that she has come into tickets for the Frozen musical. She wants to take Noah. Olivia resists telling her to wait. Raf should be taking him because it's their thing together, but Lucy seems excited and she's not going to deny Noah something she knows he'll enjoy so much.

She's got no idea what to tell Rafael anyhow.

She's starting to manage responses to his texts since he's stopped trying to get her to talk about it. He invites her to drinks after work on Friday but she knows better. She's not going to go have drinks with a guy who has a girlfriend. She's not going to put herself in a situation that she feels like should be a date. 

She's not going to let him corner her about this in public. She's honestly surprised he hasn't dropped by her apartment. 

It's almost the weekend and Noah has been babbling about meeting Olaf. She tries to explain to him that it's not a meet and greet. She's not sure he actually cares. She's kind of super glad Lucy is taking him and she isn't. She's a little disappointed Rafa isn't. 

She's planning a nice quiet night at home, maybe a bit of wallowing over a bottle of wine and whatever she's going to have delivered for dinner. She hasn't decided yet. She's got time. 

She walks into her apartment to find Rafael making dinner. He’s made himself at home as well. His jacket is on the back of a chair, his briefcase next to it on top of his shoes. If he’s got a master plan it involves staying awhile. Of course he has a master plan that involves staying awhile. 

She thinks of a snarky comment about his girlfriend not enjoying him playing house at other places but thinks better of it.

One, she’s not about to have the girlfriend conversation until he forces it and two, she’s going to pretend for a few seconds this is all real. That she came home to her boyfriend surprising her with dinner.

As if he'd even want to be that if he was available.

“Should I call for backup? Seems I have an intruder.”

He looks up from the pot he’s stirring and smiles. Maybe she should stop pretending this is normal before she does something truly dumb - like get caught staring.

“Lucy let me in,” he offers. “She was taking Noah to see the Frozen musical and said you should be home soon.”

She's about to apologize for not letting him do it when she remembers how today was the day he had suggested for drinks. It seems awfully convenient it coincides with the day Noah is going to a show. He planned this whole thing. Devious bastard.

“I'm sure you had nothing to do with getting her those tickets.”

He just shrugs and then strains noodles over the sink.

“Who's to say?”

Which means he did but he’s not going to admit it. She’s taken off her own jacket and shoes. He’s pouring sauce over the noodles.

“I really should have known you would do this.”

“Yes you should have,” he quirks an eyebrow, then gestures to the dining room table with his head, “Sit. Eat.”

She moves to the dining room table, sits, and grabs a fork. She's just a rat in a cage now, really, might as well get some food out of it. She knew she couldn't avoid this forever. 

“How does Fiona feel about you being here?”

He shakes his head and places the plate in front of her. Then drops his own across from her and goes back to the kitchen.

“She's fine with it. Eat.”

“You're just trying to make sure my mouth is full so I can't interrupt you.”

She’d kind of forgotten he could be just as relentless as her. That was always why they’d made such a good team, and also why everything always went to such shit when they disagreed. Maybe Fiona doesn’t needle him so much. Maybe he never really liked all this back and forth.

He’s back with drinks and bread. He slides into the chair on the opposite side of the table.

“I'm trying to make sure you eat more than a bagel and Noah's leftover fish sticks for once.”

She huffs, digs the fork into the spaghetti.

“Fine.”

She takes a bite. It’s truly terrible.

How do you mess up spaghetti? Honestly. This doesn’t even have meat in it and it’s... chewy. She wants to mask it, be a good friend, pretend it’s great, but he catches her eye over his own plate and she can’t help it.

“This is awful, Raf.”

He shrugs.

“Did you only boil the noodles for like fifteen seconds?”

He knows they’re barely cooked. He’s eating the same thing she is. He’s not going to admit it.

“They’re al dente.”

“They’re all raw.”

She laughs and so does he and it’s truly wonderful. It breaks down whatever icy cocoon of armor they had mutually constructed over the past week or so.

They both manage to continue eating the crunchy spaghetti while discussing what’s been going on at his office. Apparently interns are dumb and senators are assholes and he thinks the guy running the sanitation department is out to get him. She tells him he’s being paranoid and he begrudgingly agrees.

She’s almost done with her food, tearing away a piece of garlic bread (somehow he managed to do that correctly but she suspects it was pre-made) when he manages to kick at her heart.

“So you’re not dating Stone?”

She nearly spits out the bread. This isn't what she expected him to care about. Maybe they can fix their friendship and avoid her little slip up altogether. Maybe everything was always about Peter and he will ignore whatever it was she meant by her comments about his dating choices.

“Please - he’s barely even a person.”

“He’s an attractive man.”

She’s not sure what he’s trying to get her to admit. She’s not dating him, she doesn’t want to and she’d be truly shocked if he was interested.

The only person she’s interested in is sitting across from her and he’s unavailable.

“Maybe in an objective sort of way,” she allows. Maybe that will get him off her back about whatever this is.

“He seems interested.”

No, he’s not. She’d say he was projecting if she didn’t know any different. She’s not going to admit she wants to date Stone because there's not a universe in which she'd ever want to. What does it even matter to Rafa?

“He’s confused by the fact that I am not charmed by him.”

Rafael genuinely laughs. It’s full of mirth and the smile is going to his eyes and she feels her heart catch. They’re not going to be able to have nights like this much longer. Especially now that she’s fucked it up and told him. They can pretend it’s not there all they want but they both still know what she said.

Fiona may be sweet but she’s not a saint. She’s not going to let him hang out at her apartment even if he’s too honorable to ever do anything. Even if she’s too chickenshit to ever do anything.

She sighs. Time to rip off the Band-Aid.

“Look - all this effort to change the subject and talk about Stone to try to disarm me is cute and all but you forget I know your prosecution techniques,” she smiles, grabs his hand in hers, tries not to stumble over the fact that she just called him cute to his face.

“I’m really okay with you and Fiona. I was just having a bad day and things got ahead of me and I wasn't prepared for you to call me out on my dating life so I lashed out. I'm sorry I said that and she's amazing.”

She genuinely means all of this. She wants him to be happy and even if they can’t be friends the same way they can still be friendly. She can still hold on to parts of him. She thinks Fiona will be okay with that. She hopes he wouldn’t let Fiona not be okay with that.

“Liv, Fiona is my friend.”

That’s just great. It’s good to have a relationship that started out as friendship. She’s been told this. She feels stabs of jealousy threaten to overtake and she stamps them down so she doesn't start imagining what could have been hers. That's for after he's gone home to his new best friend. His girlfriend.

“Right, sure, great basis for a relationship right?”

She moves her hand away and he seems confused.

“She’s not interested in me - I think she’s dating a firefighter, or maybe he’s a plumber?” he laughs, it stings. He's always so happy about Fiona, even when she's rejected him. “I honestly wasn’t really listening when she told me about him but she acts like he’s very strong.”

Unrequited love is the worst. So he’s free but his heart isn’t. She’s not sure what hurts more - that she still can’t have him or that she knows exactly what he’s feeling.

“Well I'm sorry that she doesn't love you back.”

She’d wants to tell him he’s great, reassure him he’s a catch. That would go straight to his ego and she already called him cute so she’s not going to do it. It would reveal too much anyway.

He’s gaping at her again. His head is pulled back in such a way she can't predict what he's going to do next. She has to get out of this so she gets up and grabs his plate.

“What?”

She stacks his on top of hers, balances the cups on top of them and places the silverware beside the cups.

“I’m sorry she doesn’t love you. I know how much that stings.”

She picks up the stack she’s made. He’s just staring at her. She moves to the kitchen and loads the dishwasher in silence.

She comes back and he still has the same expression. She’s not sure what part of this he’s stuck on. She’s allowed to have been in love whether he believes her or not.

She’s not going to tell him it’s him.

She’s about to offer a nightcap when he comes to. He stares straight into her eyes.

“Are you trying to be obtuse?”

She still doesn’t understand. She definitely feels a bit dense, whatever he means by it.

“I'm sorry - I don’t - “ she’s waiting for him to interrupt her, to explain what he means. He does.

“Olivia Benson, please look at me when I say this so I know you're listening. I am not dating Fiona Masters. I don’t want to date Fiona Masters. I only let you think that because I was mad about Peter. I am not in love with her. I am not interested in her.”

Well shit.

So since he knows she’s not dating Peter and he’s not dating Fiona he really is here to talk about her little slip up. That time where she may have not so casually admitted to wanting him.

He’s been trying to let her down gently, Lord bless him.

She knew she couldn't avoid this for forever. She still needs to have a moment to gather her wits before he well and truly breaks her heart.

“Okay then. Point taken.”

She’s about to move to the living room, if she’s going to offer herself up for sacrifice she’d like to be comfortable. He’s not going to let her.

“I don't know how much more obvious I can be,” she meets his eyes and it’s the same warm expression he had after she got all pissy about him dating another cop.

“I have been in love with you for years. I only ever told you in metaphors because I never believed you'd be interested. I walked away because I couldn't do it to myself anymore and I came back because spending my life without you in it at all became… untenable. I'm sorry I overreacted about Peter Stone and I'm sorry I didn't correct you about Fiona but you are blind if you think I would want anyone other than you. I always thought you knew this. Until last week.”

He shrugs again, like he just told her they were out of coffee at the food cart or that Noah threw his rubber duckie behind the toilet again. As if he just said something annoying but ultimately innocuous, like what he just admitted has no consequence.

She could honestly kill him.

He’s been letting her think he’s in love with Fiona Masters. He’s been thinking she’s dating Peter Stone knowing he felt like this? He’s been thinking she’s always known?

What?

Why would she have known and then let him waste all that time? How does he not know she’s been in Hell? How could he think she would do anything like this on purpose?

When did he tell her in metaphors?

“When did you -” it hits her in chest, she'd only ever focused on him leaving, she remembered every word he’d said that day but she never dreamed he meant it like that.

Maybe she had fantasized he meant it like that a few times. Maybe she allowed herself a few imaginings but she'd never really believed them to be real.

“The colors? Raf -” she gasps, he looks like she's stabbed him in the gut. That's how she feels too.

“You thought I knew you had… feelings and just let you fester in them without saying anything? You think I'm that cruel?”

He gives her a sad smile. She needs this expression off of his face. It's the same one he had when he told her he was leaving.

Oh.

“Not cruel. Merciful enough not to acknowledge what you don't reciprocate.”

It's his _I love you but it's ripping me apart because you don't love me and I will be okay with it_ face.

He’s a moron. A Harvard educated, best ADA she’s ever worked with, probable future mayor, man she’s going to spend the rest of her life with whether he likes it or not, moron.

She laughs, she’s so happy somehow. They’ve wasted years. He could have gone to jail. She could have died. He never told her because he was convinced she wasn’t into him that way. She never told him because she was convinced she wasn’t his type.

“Now who was being obtuse?”

He raises his eyebrows. He still wasn’t expecting her to admit she meant exactly what he was hoping. She was pissed about him dating a cop because she wanted him to date her. He still seems at least half convinced she’s going to deny all her feelings after he just told her something like that. As if she could ever deny it. He’s amazing, really.

“Liv?”

She knows what he's asking. Are you sure? Is this what you really want? How long have you felt this way?

Yes. Yeah. Always.

She's waiting for him to kiss her but realizes he won't. He's too chivalrous or something for it. Not going to take the thing if she hasn't explicitly offered it. It infuriates her that it's so attractive. She's always hated just how much he winds her up.

Maybe she's been in love with him for years too.

She kisses him. She's worried for a split second when he doesn't respond. Almost pulls away when he reaches out his hands and grabs the back of her head, pulling her toward him.

She was maybe sort of hoping it wouldn’t be as good as she’s been fantasizing about. That way she wouldn’t be so mad at herself for wasting so much time. Of course he’s an amazing kisser. Of course she’s keyed up and only half registering coherent thoughts because his mouth is doing things to her neck that probably leave marks. She’s trying to calculate how much time there is before Noah gets home.

She’s trying to angle around to check the time on the microwave when he stops. She nearly whimpers. Wow she is in danger.

She’s always been in danger.

“Am I boring you?” he smirks, reaches out to fiddle with the hem of her shirtsleeve. He seems relaxed but he’s also panting just as much as she is.

“No, just trying to figure out how much time we have to -"

He raises an eyebrow, “You’re sure? Don’t feel like you need to because I barely cooked dinner or anything.”

She laughs, looks into his eyes, “I really did train you well, didn’t I?”

“Is that a yes?”

It’s a _Hell yes, please get a move on before I jump out of my skin_ . It’s a _we’ve been dancing around this for years, let’s get to it_ . It’s a _don’t let me think about this for too long or I’ll talk myself out of it and we both know that_.

She’s only crazy in love with the fact that he knows it and still made sure to ask. She’s only insanely into him getting express permission for something they both really want to do. She’s only slightly terrified of the consequences.

Yeah - she’s super in love with him and probably always has been. 

“Yes.”

He resumes that thing with her neck and she’s really hoping she can pull off a scarf tomorrow. She’s about to tell him to get on with it when his hands slip under her blouse. She finds her hands doing the same thing under his shirt.

Before she really registers it they're flying down the hall to her bedroom, clothes are soaring off their bodies, his mouth is trailing along places she’s wanted it to be for years.

Before she has time to catch her breath and think about the step she just jumped into head first, she’s pulling a condom onto him and he’s sinking into her and all she can think of is bliss.

All she can register is the sensation of her skin against his and how he’s always belonged right here.

Before she can consider what that actually means he’s reaching between them to help her along and she’s seeing stars. Every nerve is tingling and she’s probably being loud as hell because it feels incredible. She chokes out her orgasm and he collapses on top of her.

It takes a solid few minutes to catch their breaths. She wants to make a joke about not being a spring chicken but he looks up into her eyes and smiles and she forgets how to breathe for a second.

Wow. She could have had this the entire time. She feels the tears welling up and he furrows his brow, reaches his hand to her cheek and strokes it softly.

“Hey now - what’s this about?” he seems genuinely concerned, like he did something wrong.

“Nothing,” she shakes her head, laughing over her outburst. He’s still confused, “Just that we could have been this happy for so long and we wasted it.”

“Did we really though, honestly?”

He smiles, pulls her into his chest, and kisses the top of her head.

It finally registers. He really has been in love with her for years, and not just in the passionate kind of way she was assuming.

This is dangerous and beautiful and perfect.

“We’re here now right? That’s what matters.”

She really has always been in danger. She wants nothing else. Mushy, sweet Rafael is a sight and one day she might be able to tell him how much she loves him.

At some point he gets up and discards the condom. She’s unsure if she’s going to be okay with him not spending the night but that’s way too far too fast.

She’s attempting not to freak out by the time he gets back, but she stops because he pulls her into him and drags the covers up over them. She needs nothing else right now but to feel his chin against her head and his heartbeat underneath hers.

Neither of them let go until she half feels her phone chime on the floor. She's not sure where her pants exactly are and she's not a fan of the way he's unabashedly staring instead of helping.

Okay maybe she's a huge fan of the way he's staring.

“Will you stop ogling and help me find my phone?”

He chuckles and moves out of bed. So now maybe she's staring. She's going to be mad when after all this it's just a random meme from Carisi on group text. She's told him to stop doing that at least twelve times.

She finally finds it in her pants pocket. She's not going to think about the fact that her pants were in the doorway. She's not going to defend that to herself.

It's a text from Lucy with a picture of Noah, clutching an Olaf doll.

[ _He loved it and he wants to know if he can spend the night. Told him I'd have to get your permission_.]

[ _I'm glad. As long as you don't mind_?]

[ _I don't. He's a good kid and he'll tire out soon anyway.]_

_[Thanks_ ]

She found her underwear at the foot of the bed and tossed them, along with the rest of her clothes, in the en suite bathroom. She’s not putting those back on. She moves to the dresser and puts on a sleep shirt. She’s opening the underwear drawer and putting on a new pair when she gets another text from Lucy.

[ _Congrats btw_ _]_

_ [For what?] _

_ [Oh please. If you didn't finally jump his bones and you're just sitting there drinking wine I may just have to cancel this sleepover] _

_ [Can neither confirm nor deny] _

_ [Right. I'll drop him by after breakfast tomorrow _ ]

She laughs, even Lucy had more of a clue about this than they did. Maybe they’re both idiots. Maybe she doesn’t actually care. Maybe she’s super happy they finally did this.

“What's so funny over there?”

She’d have a clever clapback for him but he’s all ruffled and adorable and she doesn’t even want to have the energy.

“Lucy is getting bold, and I'm sleepy.”

“Oh she's sassy, you just haven't been paying attention to it. Come here.”

He’s put on his undershirt and boxers and got the rest of his clothes in a pile that he drops on her bedroom chair. She walks over and he gathers her in his arms. Kisses her. It’s long and slow and sweet and perfect and she doesn’t want to start crying again.

She breaks away and moves back to the bed, motions for him to join her. He obliges, settles her in his arms and she helps him pull the sheets back up around them. She’d kind of like him to continue that whole neck thing but this is good too.

He sighs. He seems content.

“When are Noah and Lucy due back?”

She doesn’t exactly want to ask him to spend the night but she also thinks he may be asking to. Maybe she should take Fiona’s advice - use her words. Seems like not using them got her into trouble. Seems like not using them got them both in a lot of trouble.

“He wanted to stay over and I let him because it’s Friday so they’ll probably be back around 10 tomorrow.”

He’s drawing circles over her arm, but something seems to tense up, ever so slightly. She wants to tell him to use his words but that seems too snarky for what feels like genuine apprehension.

“I can duck out sometime soon then, be out of here before they get back.”

He’s worried she wants him to leave.

“Stay,” she breathes, “I mean, if you want. I’d like you to stay.”

He pulls back slightly to look into her eyes. He's full of hope and happiness and warmth. God, how did she ever deny this was real? How did she ever think he was someone else’s?

“You’re okay with Noah seeing me here?”

She smiles, his concern is both lovely and slightly unwarranted.

“You’re here all the time and I think he may have to get used to you being here overnight. I mean, if you want to be.”

He smirks, leans down, and kisses her briefly.

“You know I do.”

He turns over so they are face to face. She’s happy to fall asleep like this, let this night end as perfectly as she could have ever hoped, but she’s got a question that’s been gnawing at her. It’s the one thing that doesn’t really make sense.

“Can I ask something that may be stupid?”

She’s got her hand on his stomach and his eyes are closed, he murmurs his response.

“Sure.”

His eyes are still closed. He must think it’s inconsequential, but he also thought his confession was inconsequential so maybe she should know not to trust his judgment on these things.

“The gala -” she starts, moves her hand up and down his belly.

“Yeah?”

He’s smiling but his eyes are still shut. She’s just going to have to ask it.

“Why did you invite me if you were bringing Fiona?”

That gets him to wake up. He seems surprised by the question, as if he doesn’t quite understand why she’s asking it. His answer doesn’t give her what she’s really looking for.

“Fiona wasn't my date. She wanted me to go and I said I wasn't being a third wheel so then she strongly hinted I should bring you.”

Fiona told him to? But where was Fiona’s date? If she was supposed to be his companion, why didn’t he tell her? Why did he just concern himself with introducing Fiona? She really wishes he had looked at the dress. She was basically wearing it for him. Whether she was conscious of that when she bought it she couldn’t say.

“If it was supposed some kind of date between you and me then why ignore me? You didn't even notice the dress.”

He breathes in, gives her that same face he used to when she was asking for warrants they both knew they didn't have evidence for. He must think she’s being ridiculous.

“I'm sorry about that. I decided you'd never feel okay with a date with me so I was kind of just pretending I'd asked and you'd said yes.”

He grabs her hand from his stomach, kisses her knuckles reverently.

If only he had asked.

“And as usual you were being obtuse ... I noticed. I couldn't take my eyes off of you. I convinced myself that maybe you'd actually put forth effort into something you hated because you wanted to spend time with me. I was fantasizing that maybe you'd lowered your standards enough to want me but were trying to work up the courage to say it. I almost pulled a dumb move and ran after you when you wouldn't text me back. But then you came in with Stone and my dream shattered and I couldn't figure out how to deal with that anger. It's not polite to stare at people who aren't yours to stare at anyway so I tried to distract myself.”

Lowering her standards? How ridiculous. He still has no clue. She's always wanted to spend time with him, even when they sort of hated each other. Of course she wanted him back, whether she was prepared to deal with that at the time or not.

She wants to be satisfied with his answer. She wants to be happy and accept that he is finally hers too. She’s still a little miffed, so she’s going to needle him a bit more.

“You were laughing with Fiona so much though,” she counters. “You're always so happy when you talk about her.”

He just gives her that look again.

“Don't mistake my general amusement with her entire being for attraction. I can't believe you were jealous of Fiona. I mean she’s my friend but she's also a demon. She told me I looked like Grumpy Cat - ”

He trails off, stops and then laughs. It's full throated with a wide smile and his head back. Is he making fun of her now?

“What?”

He’s rolling his eyes.

“She totally did this on purpose. She was supposed to bring her boyfriend and he never showed up. She's diabolical really. She probably even invited Peter. I'm going to kill her.”

Fiona - beautiful, perfect, and lovely Fiona. She had masterminded this entire thing, probably told Rafa she wasn’t dating Peter. It definitely would explain why she was okay with how rude she was at the gala.

Sure, they almost ruined it, but that’s no one’s fault but theirs. Olivia could kiss her.

“Don't. She's great.”

Rafael looks surprised.

“I thought you hated her?”

She raises an eyebrow, sighs.

“Only when I thought she was your girlfriend and even then not really. I was mostly just mad at you for not telling me and at myself for not doing anything sooner.”

He grins. It’s beautiful. She wonders if he’s always been this obvious.

“And I was mad at you for dating an ADA who wasn't me so we're really quite a pair.”

“And I can't believe you’d be jealous of him. He's basically a McGruff cartoon.”

He looks sheepish at that. He should. Why would she have ever been believed to be dating Peter? Maybe this is how he feels about Fiona? Means well but ultimately just kind of annoying in spite of everything.

She doubts that. Fiona is great. Though maybe she’s biased.

“Yeah well, jealousy makes you dumb and you in that dress was… doing things to me.”

His eyes go dark at what he must be remembering. She tries to keep from squirming under his gaze. He must have been very careful not to look at her this way before. He must have only looked at her this way when she wasn’t paying attention.

Otherwise she would have been the one pulling a dumb move and made this happen a long time ago.

“I’m glad you noticed it,” she grins and he returns it. She’s looking down and fiddling with the hem of his undershirt when he stops her. She looks up.

“Liv - try and be nicer to Peter okay? He's honestly a good guy and you're intimidating as hell.”

She knows. It’s not his fault he’s boring and being boring doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy or a bad lawyer. She knows she’s been holding a grudge against him for the Householder case. She knows she’s been comparing him to someone he’ll never be. Someone she doesn’t actually want him to be.

“I know. He's just not you.”

He smiles, pushes some of her hair behind her ear.

“And thank God for that.”

She laughs. She agrees. She can’t imagine another Rafael Barba. She wouldn’t want one. She just wants this one and now that she’s finally got him she’s going to enjoy it, God damn it.

“Can we stop talking about Stone and Masters please?”

“Of course.”

They stop talking altogether. His hand slips between her thighs to stroke the seam of her underwear and he smirks because she’s already starting to buck into his movements. She’s about to make a comment about putting that mouth to better use somewhere when he starts doing that neck thing again.

She can feel him start to harden against her leg, so she reaches out to stroke him, but he swats her away.

She whimpers when he removes his hand and it catches her shirt. 

“You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“A shirt and some panties is too much clothing now?”

“Yes.”

She lifts her hips and helps him pull the shirt up over her head. It gets tossed somewhere across the room and she’s about to say something about cleaning up after himself but he’s staring again. Staring so long she’s about to shrink under it. How in the fuck did she never realize?

Maybe he was right. Maybe she had been trying to be obtuse. Takes one to know one.

She doesn’t want to think about this so she pushes against him, tries to slip under his shirt to get it off of him. He smiles and looks down.

“Eager, are we?”

“Now you’re wearing too many clothes.”

“Well you’re just going to have to indulge me. You have no idea how many fantasies I’ve had about this.”

She’s got some idea, because it’s probably close to the amount she’s had. He’s the one with no clue. But, she thinks, now she understands why he was avoiding her at that dumb gala. 

If he looked at her like this in public she wouldn’t have been able to stop herself from doing something inappropriate and would not have cared about making a scene.

Maybe he’s always looked at her like this. Maybe she should tell him she wants him to keep doing it.

He’s removing his shirt - indulging her anyway- when she decides to let him know.

“Maybe you should tell me about them sometime. Maybe you’re not the only one with fantasies.”

His eyes flare and he lets out a low breath somewhere near a growl, lowers himself over her and meets her eyes.

“Woman, you’re going to be the death of me.”

He’s bending his neck and when he doesn’t kiss her she thinks he’s going to resume that neck thing. Instead, he moves lower and it’s when his tongue is circling her left nipple that she realizes it. No, he’s really going to be the death of her.

What a beautiful death it will be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record Fiona did not invite Peter. He just has awful timing. Thanks for reading!


End file.
